Hetalia: Independence Day
by crazyhorse567
Summary: "... Oh god, no..." he watched the TV helplessly in fear as the light grew bigger and brighter. He felt a twinge in his side before numerous screams were heard from the TV and the signal went dead. A wave of agonising pain exploded in America's left side and he let out a scream before collapsing to the hard floor, clutching at his side. "America!" One-shot. USUK pairing.


**AN: **So, I know in the movie that the aliens attack a lot of different countries, but in this fic I just focus on America. It's probably OOC a bit too, but hey, I guess I gave it a shot, right? This is my first Hetalia fanfic so there will be probably be mistakes but I still hope you enjoy it!

So I came up with this idea whilst watching the movie Independence Day on TV for the first time back in March or February, and jotted down some ideas. I actually planned to type up and upload this like, a week or something after I thought it up, but for one, I didn't get it finished by then and then I kept getting distracted by other stuff and then I thought, heck, why not just upload it on the 4th July like when the movie is supposed to be on. So, here it is! I really hope you like it!

Also, I hope all you American's are having a nice 4th July! (And stay safe!) :)

**Words: **6207

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**~~Hetalia: Independence Day~~**

**~~~ 2 July ~~~**

England sighed and sat down in his armchair, setting down his cup of newly brewed tea and single plate of tea cakes on the coffee table in front of him.

Today was a Tuesday. He had no plans for today. He had some paperwork to do but he had decided to work on that later. The next World Meeting was four days away.

Something seemed different about that day though, something that seemed to lace the air...  
A knock on the front door made the blond jump out of his thoughts and he grumbled something about interrupting his peace and other nonsense about tea and scones. He stood up and walked over to the door, opening it to find a familiar blond haired nation grinning widely at him, McDonald's bag in hand. The door was slammed shut in said visitors face as soon as it was opened.

"Aw, come on Iggy! Not cool! I came all the way here to see you too! Open up, dude!" America complained from the other side of the door.

"My name is not 'Iggy' you bloody git." England growled, pulling the door open and stepping aside so the American could come in.

"What are you here for anyway?" the Brit questioned as the American waltzed in and set his McDonald's down on the kitchen counter.

"'Cause I wanted to come and see my British friend, duh!"

"One, I am not your friend, and two, do not come into my house and use it as you bloody well please." England said, angrily taking a sip of his now slightly cooled tea, pinky raised. Seeing this, the American smirked. England narrowed his eyes and glared at him.

"Nice to see you still hate me." America turned his back to the Englishman.

England felt his heart twinge and he also turned away. An awkward silence broke out between the two and lasted two full minutes before the American sat down on the sofa with his burger and fries on a tray - he only put them on a tray to keep the Brit from shouting at him for eating sloppily.

"So what d'ya wanna do today then?" America broke the silence with his mouth full of food.

"How the hell should I know? You're the one who came here, git." England huffed, trying to ignore the younger nation's bad manners.

They settled for watching TV while they ate their McDonald's and tea cakes and drank their coke and tea. Well, America watched it anyway, England turned to reading the newspaper when he saw that America was watching some stupid comedy American TV show.

The hours passed somewhat slowly and it came to 4pm. England had just got back from the local store with a couple of bags of groceries and America got up from the sofa where he was idly flipping through the newspaper, bored, and went over to the Brit who was stocking his cupboards and the fridge with the new food.

He was about to speak when he froze suddenly. England noticed this and turned to face him. The American's eyes were clouded over and he was staring off to the side next to England.

"America...?" The Brit said, starting to feel a little bit worried.

Said American came back to his senses and looked at England with a straight face before turning on the TV and switching it over to the news.

"... There have been reports of Extraterrestrial spacecraft's which have been said to be at least fifteen miles wide each, appearing over several major cities of America, including New York City, Los Angeles and Washington D.C.,"

"Bloody hell..." England whispered in shock as recorded footage of the crafts hovering over the Empire State Building appeared on the screen.

"... there will be more news on this subject as soon as we receive more information..."

America flopped down on the sofa, his mouth open.

"You sensed them didn't you? Before, in the kitchen. You sensed something strange entering the atmosphere in your country." England spoke and the American simply nodded.

"I should probably go. The country will probably need help from their hero on this..." The words escaped America's mouth, yet he made no move to leave and England said nothing, so somehow he ended up staying.

Few more hours of endless waiting for any news of the spacecraft's passed painfully slowly. Nobody knew what to think or expect. So many questions whirled around in people's minds. Where they friendly or hostile? Where they here to make an alliance with the people of the earth and waiting for the humans to react first, or were they waiting for the right moment to attack and cause the next apocalypse, or even fight to take over the planet?

All possibilities could be deemed believable, but either way; no one had a clue. They could only anticipate and wait for some sort of sign or contact from the strange life form which sat above some of their heads.

Finally, at around 8pm, the droning voice of the news anchor stopped as she raised her hand to her earpiece.

"Hold on... we are getting new reports that the extraterrestrial life forms above New York City seems to finally be making some sort of contact..." England and America looked at each other and rushed over to the TV, eager to find out what was going on.

"... wait, we have a camera at the scene. Sally?" America swallowed nervously as the camera shot switched to a female news reporter who was at the site, stood on the roof of a building directly beneath the spaceship. He had a bad feeling. Something was wrong.

A large group of people were gathered at the top of the building, shouting and dancing noisily, making it quite difficult to hear what the reporter was saying.

England and America could just about make something out about a helicopter using a light show to welcome the visitors to earth.

Some of the people were clothed in costumes, a few in silver UFO type costumes, while others were in normal everyday attire but still holding large 'Welcome to Earth' type signs and such.

Suddenly everyone in the background seemed to go silent, leaving the reporter to continue speaking for a few seconds until she too realised what was going on. She turned and looked up as all the others were doing before turning back to the camera.

"What are you doing? Show the camera-" the camera moved up to show the bottom of the spacecraft slowly opening up, glowing blue inside. A larger blue light seemed to build up into some sort of beam or blast in the centre of the opening and something clicked in America's head.

"A countdown..." he blurted out absent-mindedly and then his eyes widened, realization hitting him as he ignored the Brit's confused look thrown at him. "... the satellites..." He swallowed nervously, his heart increasing.

"... Oh god, no..." he watched the TV helplessly in fear as the light grew bigger and brighter. He felt a twinge in his side before numerous screams were heard from the TV and the signal went dead.

A wave of agonising pain exploded in America's left side and he let out a scream before collapsing to the hard floor, clutching at his side.

"America!" The older nation was crouched by his side in an instant.

England's eyes widened. New York was being attacked!

"T-The E-Empire State Building... The Statue of L-Liberty... Los Angeles... they're gone...!" America cried, his breath hitching in his throat. Tears were running down his cheeks and England wasn't sure whether they were from the pain or from the devastation that was happening in his country, or maybe both.

He held the younger nation in his arms and rubbed his back gently, soothing him.

New York _and _Los Angeles were being destroyed...? There had to be something he could do to help... but what could he do, really? What else could be done at this moment other than to comfort the hurting nation in his arms? He honestly felt helpless.

He wasn't sure if America could deal with a third blow right now, and he certainly didn't want to think about the American dealing with any more pain.

America screamed again, and somehow this time it seemed worse. He held the younger nation closer and felt him cough violently. Pulling him away from him, his eyes widened. Oh god... why did he have to think that...?

The third blow had been delivered, and this was much, much worse. England felt his heart practically stop. America's mouth was covered in blood. He coughed and blood poured out into his hand. Tears ran down the younger blond's face and he tensed as an immense shot of pain wracked his body. America was having trouble breathing, his breath either catching from the tears or the tremors from the pain in his body. By now the pain had spread from his side to his chest. His body ached and burned.

"England..." he breathed hoarsely. "Washington D.C... it burns..." his voice was breaking and England felt like his heart could crack too. The capital? Oh god no... The heart of America...

It made the Englishman feel distressed and sad to see the ex-colony like this. Usually so energetic and loud, now so weak and... lifeless...

Wait... lifeless...? He saw that the American's eyes were closed.

"America! Stay with me now. Don't pass out, not yet."

"England, it hurts..." American's eyes opened slightly and were dull, filled with pain.

Those words stung at England's heart, a vision of younger America played in his mind, of when he hurt himself whilst climbing a tree.

"_Hey Britain! Look at me!" England turned at the sound of the child's voice but couldn't locate him. The boy laughed from his hiding place. "Up here!" The Brit turned again and looked up to find the small familiar face of America grinning widely down at him. He gasped._

"_America, be careful! You could fall!"_

"_Don't worry, I'm fine! I'm an expert at tree climbing~!" The young boy chirped, the big grin still plastered across his small, bright face._

"_This is your first time tree climbing, don't be so stupid. Come down now before you get yourself hurt."_

_Fine..." the young American pouted before climbing down a couple of branches._

"_Really America, you're such a handf-"A crack echoed through his ears._

"_Waaahh!" America yelled, his arms spiralling as he fell backwards out of the tree. _

"_America!" England ran to catch the small boy, but by the time he reached him he was already curled up on the ground._

_Tears spilled out of his eyes as he clutched his arm._

"_America! Are you alright?" A head shake._

"_England, it hurts..." _

"_Oh god... America, next time I tell you to be careful-"_

"_I know England, I'll be careful." America put on a smile through the tears. England just looked at him and pulled the small boy into his arms and hugged him._

America's injury turned out to be nothing more than a bad sprain. He was lucky that he hadn't broken a bone. He didn't go climbing any trees for a while after that. England could have smiled but this wasn't the time. He mentally slapped himself for getting out of the present.

He needed to get America to somewhere comfortable. England took America's arm and wrapped it around his shoulders before carefully standing up and taking the weight of the taller nation onto his back. Then he headed to the guest room and lay him down gently on the bed.

Somewhere along the way, the American had lost consciousness. England gripped his hand in his. He decided against removing his glasses. The younger nation would want to keep them on and England could always take them off if it looked like they were going to break from moving around or such.

England jumped as something buzzed in his pocket. He pulled his mobile phone out and answered it after the first ring without checking who it was.

"E-England...?" It was Canada.

"Canada."

"Y-yes, how is America?"

"He's..." England looked at the unconscious blond's face. It was filled with suffering and laced with sweat. He was as pale as chalk. "...not fairing very well. Canada, do you know exactly what is going on? All I know is that there are a bunch of alien spacecraft's around different parts of America." He swallowed." "America said that New York, Los Angeles and Washington D.C. are... gone. The aliens did it didn't they?" There was short pause on the other line as Canada bit his lip, trying to find the right words to say.

"E-England, the aliens... they've destroyed the major cities of America. New York, Los Angeles and Washington D.C., as well as others, have been completely wiped out. Only debris, remains and land remain of those cities that the aliens chose."

The Englishman shouldn't be surprised. At least not this much. America had already said it, already told him that those bloody aliens had destroyed most of his country. But he was still shocked. He still dropped the phone to the floor with a small crack as his mind tried to visualise the destruction that had occurred not fifteen minutes ago. He couldn't imagine the amount of pain and suffering America was going through right now. Sure, he had been through pain of wars and battles, but... This was different. The country was being practically demolished. He squeezed the other male's hand tightly and he could have sworn he felt America grip his hand back even just by a small amount.

"England? E-England, are you okay...? A-are you still there?" England faintly heard Canada's gentle and worried voice muffled through the phone by his feet.

"Ah, y-yes, I'm sorry Canada, the phone slipped from my hand." He replied after picking up the phone.

"O-oh, that's okay. Um, I'm on my way over to your house now, I know you can take care of my brother until I get there...?"

"Of course. I shall see you soon then." England replied.

"Thank you." Canada said before ending the call.

England locked his phone and put it beside him on the night stand. He wondered for a second how Canada knew his brother was at his house, the Brit knew America almost always tells the quiet nation where he's going. Well, when he remembers him.

England kept America's hand in his and awaited Canada's arrival.

**~~~ 3 July ~~~**

Canada arrived roughly five hours later.

"I-I'm so sorry I took so long England, I tried to get here as qui-" England barely registered his arrival because he was too busy trying to comfort America who was squirming in pain again.

"Al!" Canada ran over to them.

"Canada, hello." England said quickly once he saw said nation enter the room rather swiftly. America cried out once more.

"From what I could make out, America is fighting back against the alien space ship in Los Angeles.

"There are numerous fighter pilots attempting to bring down the destroyer."

"And...?"

The American lurched forward towards the bucket which England had brought in not too long before the Canadian had arrived and coughed up a generous amount of blood.

"He's losing..." The Englishman said sadly, rubbing circles gently on the American's back.

"This, is really bad... we need to help him, send some forces over to aid him or something... w-we can't just sit here and watch him suffer like this." Canada said.

"I know, I have considered it bu-"

"N-no... this is my problem." America sat up looking at them, his eyes dull and his voice breaking as he spoke. "I'm the hero remember? I can handle this. You need to have more faith in the hero, dude!" America smiled, laying back into the pillow.

"America, don't speak you idiot! How can you smile when you're in so much pain?" England said, his hair falling over his eyes.

"B-brother, stay strong. We're here for you."

"Thanks little bro." The American said before wincing. "Oooww... those aliens sure pack a damn punch..." America said, trying to stay strong, but he couldn't fight the few tears that fell, from falling.

"America! I know you can do it, you're strong enough to beat them! Fight back!" England said.

The anxiety and suspense was killing the two witnesses as they watched America fight back mentally-yet physically in his own country-against the hostile life forms which were practically killing the nation.

Then everything went quiet. America lay still but breathing heavily. It looked like the fight was over. Had America won? Surely he had, he was the hero after all... right?

England looked up to see America smiling at him. He had won! The Englishman smiled back, tears building in his eyes. He blinked them away and America lifted his hand to his face.

Wait... something wasn't right...

"I'm sorry Iggy, I lost the fight." He spoke, his voice broken again. England's face fell. W-what...? But how? What were these creatures?

America's eyes closed and England began to panic.

"America! America, open your eyes!" He shook the nations arm frantically. Canada put a hand on his shoulder.

"E-England, he's okay, he's just passed out. He did well to fight against them in his state..." The Canadian said gently before leaving the room. England sank down in his seat beside the bed and couldn't help the thoughts and questions which plagued his mind, almost like an inner voice.

What if America hadn't made it? What if the country had been completely destroyed and America hadn't survived? What if he had... Faded away...?What would you do then England? How would you feel? You always argue with him, always claim to hate him, but just think about it. How would you truly react if he were to leave? If he were to disappear from this world without a trace, just like that?

England felt as though something had pierced his heart.

"No! Stop it! No..." He bent forward, his hands tangled in his blond locks as he covered his ears, as though trying to stop the voice, but it didn't work.

What would you do if he _died?_

His eyes flew open, tears ready to escape and he visibly shook.

"NO!"

"England? What's wrong, is everything okay?" The timid voice of Canada came from the doorway and the Brit quickly wiped his eyes and exhaled.

"Yes, yes." England turned to him, a fake smile on his face.

"O-okay. Umm, I found a radio in the other room, I thought it could be useful. The news of the fight should be on the radio and I think we should know exactly what's going on in my brothers country."

England nodded and the Canadian set it down on the night stand. He turned it on and tuned it on to the news channel. Whilst he did so, England wondered to himself.

What _would_ he do if America... No. He couldn't think about it. He shook his head but his mind only wandered to another thought.

Do I really hate America...?

Deep down, England knew it wasn't true. He did still feel a small amount of heart ache over the Revolutionary War. He had felt betrayed. England had seen America as a brother up until then, or at least he thought. There was another feeling there, growing in his heart...

"Ah, got it." Canada's voice brought him out of his thoughts and he turned to the radio.

"... Reports of the counter attack against the alien destroyer in Los Angeles have just come in," The signal was slightly hazy but the words were understandable and fairly clear. "the squadron of F/A-18 Hornets failed to bring down the alien destroyer due to an invisible shield surrounding the ship. The shield repelled the missiles and nuclear detonations, rendering the Hornets useless and vulnerable. The ship released a large score of smaller ships, which ensued a one-sided battle due to the hostile ships also bearing the same deflective shields. It appears that there were no survivors-" England slammed his hand on the off switch and buried his face in his hands, sighing deeply. He didn't want to hear anymore.

"This is going nowhere. I can't stand by and watch him get hurt any more. I'm sending in help." England reached for his phone but a hand stopped him and he looked up.

"Britain, don't..." America was awake. He always seemed to awaken when someone spoke of helping him. Why was he so against it? Sometimes the hero needs help too!

"America-" England jumped up to try and help him.

"Iggy, my people need me. I can't be laying here feeling sorry for myself any longer, the hero never does that." He sat up and England honestly felt like hitting him. He was here, injured pretty badly and in pain, and yet he was _still_ insisting on being the hero? This was one of the reasons the American annoyed him so much. But at the same time it amazed him how he could be so strong; both physically and mentally, and in such a situation.

"I don't know how I was so stupid enough to lay here for so long while my country was in trouble... I'm still breathing aren't I? I've got to go and help." America stepped out of the bed and wobbled, England steadying him.

"Don't be so stupid you bloody git, you're still injured! I said that I would send forces over to help-"

"England. No." America stood his ground too. "It's my country and my burden." He was reminding England too much of America on that day. That day in the rain, when the younger country had declared his independence. England's heart twisted and he pushed the American back down on the bed, anger rising in his mixed emotions. He regretted it afterwards, seeing the younger nation wince in pain.

"You git, stop trying to act all high and mighty when you're like this! There's nothing you can do! Those fighter pilots couldn't do anything against the bloody aliens and they got themselves killed! What the hell do you-"

"Brother. We'll send help, okay? You need to rest, I know you're still in a lot of pain." The Canadian cut the Englishman off, finally speaking out after watching the two in silence.

America sank down into the pillow and looked at the two, sighing. Canada was right, he was still in a lot of pain, and really, what would he do when he got to his country? What _could_ he do? He had fought against the aliens from where he was, but it was a painful fight and he only ended up losing anyway...

"I'm sorry Britain, I just... I want to help. My people are dying and I feel so helpless... It hurts, Iggy..." His eyes began to sting and he bit back tears that threatened to spill once again. England sat back down in his chair and Canada watched in silence, albeit sadly, hugging Kumajiro, his pet polar bear who had almost silently entered the room at some point in the conversation and jumped up onto Canada's lap.

"I know... I'm sorry too America." he said and America looked at him sadly.

"Iggy, it's okay, just please don't send any forces to my country... For one thing, like I said before, this is my burden and I'll fight it. And secondly, I saw what the aliens are planning to do. They're harvesting the Earth's resources by country and... yours is next." England's eyes widened. America was worried about him...? About his country being invaded and there not being enough forces to fight off the aliens because they were aiding America, resulting in the destruction of his own country and the death of himself...? His eyes narrowed.

"Well I'll keep forces ready in case you need back up. Canada, can you-"

"Already on it." replied the quiet nation as he held his mobile phone to his ear. "Ah, hello, Mr Japan?"

"What is he doing?" America asked, turning to England.

"He's calling Japan to request that they keep some forces on standby for you. He'll be calling France next." said blond told him as Canada explained the situation to Japan. America sighed and nodded.

"Thank you." America was grateful for their help, but at the same time annoyed at himself. He was supposed to be the hero... What was he doing...?

"Ah, thank you. Yes, that will be very helpful. Goodbye..." Canada said before hanging up and turning back to England and America.

"Japan said that he will keep some forces on standby for us. He also said that he will contact China and South Korea and request the same."

England nodded.

"We need as many countries as possible to know about this and be ready for any invasion." The Brit said and Canada looked back at his mobile and dialled another number.

"Oui, France? Ah, bonjour..." After some talking and explaining, the quiet nation slid his phone back into his pocket. "France said he will also start preparing forces and spread the word."

"Good. You have help on your side America. We won't let these alien bastards destroy anything else." England turned to said American and smiled.

**~~~ 4 July ~~~**

England looked up at the sleeping American with tired eyes. He had been awake for almost three days now, staying by America's side.

"England, you should really get some sleep. You'll ruin your health..." Canada said quietly from the doorway. He had gone to bed at about ten pm, after America had fallen asleep.

"Oh..." England looked up at the Canadian in question who was now looking at his phone.

"What is it?"

"The date... It's the fourth of July..." Canada said a little hesitantly. England felt a slight pain in his chest. That would explain the pang and ache in his chest that he had felt all morning... Why he had been feeling so under the weather. He knew that it was mainly because of the tragedy that had happened to America, but he also knew there was something else, another reason. And now he knew exactly what it was.

How could he have forgotten? It was the day of the year that he was most depressed, that if it were any other normal year, he would drown his sorrows and heart ache in alcohol, whilst America would be partying, celebrating the anniversary of his Independence with other countries. The country's birthday. His birthday. And once England had passed out from the alcohol, he would only be awakened by the painful memories and nightmares of that day on the battlefield. Of the Revolutionary War.

But this was not like any other year. The country was being ripped apart. And so was he.

"I-I see..." He said, and looked at the sleeping nation, a little sadly.

"Um... I'll be downstairs if you need me at all..." Canada said quietly, slipping out the door. He knew that England needed to be alone at the moment. And with America, it would help him feel better. Maybe he should make some pancakes to help lighten the mood...

England looked up at the sleeping American, biting his lip ever so slightly to prevent tears from spilling from his eyes.  
"Alfred, I forgive you for what happened all those years ago... I forgave you so long ago... I don't hate you either. I've never truly hated you, how can I? Yes, I was bloody angry at you when you fought me all those years ago for your independence and... It hurt me... But, that hardly lasted before I forgave you. England choked back on a sob but couldn't hold back the few tears that escaped his eyes and trickled down his cheeks as he watched the pained expression take over America's face again. He was fighting again... Yet, Arthur continued, gripping Alfred's hand tightly.  
"I anything but hate you. I..." He swallowed nervously. "I think that... I love you Alfred." He looked down at his hands.  
"So please, you can't give up now. Don't you dare give up, you git. I'll give you my strength, anything, just live through this. Please... Fight it. I'll be by your side through it all." The tears were falling heavier now, dripping off his chin and onto America's hand. He let out what sounded like a small sob mixed with a laugh.  
"You can't even hear me... Good grief, I must sound like some idiotic twit... But even if you could hear me, what would you say? If you rejected me, I... I don't know what-"  
"I'd say that I love you too."  
England's eyes widened and he felt his cheeks burn – probably bright red now – as he looked up at the American who was now smiling gently at him, his own face slightly red.  
"America? How long have you been awake?" England quickly attempted to hide his face and wipe away the tears, along with any evidence he had been crying. America wasn't supposed to wake up.

But the American had seen the tears and he figured it'd be best if he pretended he hadn't. As much as he wanted to comfort him, he knew the Brit didn't like people seeing him cry. He hated it, he didn't want his façade to fall in front of others. But Alfred had seen him cry so many times before, when England wasn't even aware of him being there. He'd also found out about Arthur's problem with drinking way too much and letting himself go for that one day each year. He knew England was strong and he admired that about him, but the memories of that day still hurt him and he knew it. He had tried to invite him to his parties, but he always hesitated, wondering if it would hurt him, make him think that he was being funny and trying to rub it in.  
But he wasn't and the hesitation always made him lose his chance to ask him and then even at the party, he would miss the Brit's presence, annoyed at himself that he would be at home, alone and most likely drinking alcohol to numb his mind of the memories.  
This year he had planned to put an end to it, finally. Pluck up the courage and to not hesitate, to finally ask him. But this year it had gone wrong. There was no party.  
But... at least Arthur wasn't alone. At least he wasn't at home drinking and making himself sick. Out of everything that was going on... Alfred was glad about that.  
"Long enough." America rubbed the back of his neck and England continued to look away. He realised he was still holding onto Alfred's hand tightly and loosened his grip, only to have the American tighten his hold on his hand again.  
"Wait... Alfred, what did you say to me before?" The words suddenly processing in his mind. Did he...  
"I said that I'd say I love you too, Arthur Kirkland."  
England felt as though his heart had stopped. From what he could remember, America had never called him by his full name. It was always 'Iggy' or 'Artie' or just Britain or England.  
But more than that, he... he loved him too?  
"Artie? Uh, hey Artie are you okay? Did I say some-"  
England jumped up suddenly, wrapping his arms around America, the tears returning and falling down his cheeks. Alfred froze for a second but hugged him back.  
Arthur pulled away a few seconds later, remembering something extremely important which was the reason they were like this in the first place.  
"Alfred, the war! What happened?" It seemed that they had both forgotten about the current situation...  
"I'm not really sure how exactly, but from what I could see, there was something to do with a virus, which could deactivate the shields on the alien ships and I think from there we destroyed the rest of the alien ships including the mother ship! We won though Arthur!" America explained.  
Nations sometimes had the ability to see what was happening in their country whilst there was a disaster or a war or such, but this was only possible if they were sleeping or in a deep daydream.

"Oh, thank God. You... did good Alfred." England said quietly.  
"I should think I did, I am the hero after all~!" America teased and leant his head closer to the smaller blond. Knowing what he meant, Arthur closed his eyes and leant his own head closer, pressing his lips to the American's.  
"England? I heard voices, is America awa- oops..." Canada froze as he walked in on the two older nations locking lips. Neither seemed to notice his presence so he simply smiled and walked out, shutting the door quietly behind him.  
"It's good to see brother awake and better already." Canada giggled to himself.  
The two broke off the kiss at the sound of the door shutting.  
"Mattie..." America smirked.  
"So, America-"  
"I prefer it when you call me by my real name, _England._" America cut him off, pouting. England pulled a small smile.  
"So_ Alfred," _America grinned and let him continue. "Your country is an utter disaster, which reminds me, how in the bloody hell are you acting normally right now? You should still be unconscious, in pain and with a high fever. Even though you are a country and we can't exactly die easily, you were nearly destroyed, completely. So how are you-"  
"Believe me Artie, it hurts like hell, but you've made me feel that much better. Thank you." America beamed as he linked his fingers with England's who sighed a little irritably.  
"It's _Arthur _you moron." America smirked playfully and coughed. England eyed him worriedly.  
"Alfred. Me and Matthew are wiling to help you get back on your feet with your country and I'm sure many others will be willing to help too. But for now, you need to recover to get some rest."  
"Only if you do too." America replied, looking a little sadly into his eyes and cupping the Brit's face in his hands. "I can see that you haven't slept in days from the tiredness in your eyes. Here." America move over to one side of the bed, wincing ever so slightly from the pain, and let England climb in next to him, putting his head on one side of the pillow facing the American.  
Both had their eyes closed when America broke the silence.  
"Hey Artie?"  
"Hm?" Arthur opened one eye and looked at him.  
"There was one good thing about what happened," The Brit raised and eyebrow and let him continue.  
"It got you to confess your feelings for me~" He grinned and laughed as Arthur's other eye opened, both wide, before ducking his head down under the covers and against Alfred's chest to hide his bright red face.  
All was silent for another few seconds until a certain Englishman broke the silence this time.  
"Alfred?" He said quietly.

"Yeah?"  
"... I love you."  
"I love you more~" Alfred smiled and buried his face into Arthur's hair, wrapping his arm around him and cuddling him closely. Arthur smiled and closed his eyes again.

_I'd better go and tell them that the pancakes are ready..._ Canada put the bottle of Maple Syrup back on the counter next to the plate of freshly made pancakes and made his way upstairs. England had let him stay the night and use the house as his own since he knew that he was a responsible person. The quiet nation put his hand on the door handle hesitantly for a second, worried he might interrupt them again.  
He opened the door and looked in, a sweet smile spreading across his face.  
Before him, America and England lay asleep facing each other, America's arm draped over England's body as though protectively.  
"Always trying to be the hero even though you're injured... Wait, I should rephrase that; always trying to be Arthur's hero..." He giggled to himself.  
"Eh?" Canada looked down as he felt something brush against his leg.  
"Oh, hi Kumajirou" He said as he picked the bear up.  
"Who're you?"  
"I'm Canada...!"

**~~~~~~~~~~ End ~~~~~~~~~~**

* * *

**AN: **Well I hope you liked that!  
I kinda started thinking towards the end that I should've added something in about Tony. You know, something like... America somehow finding it hard to fight against them because they're aliens like his good friend Tony? Haha, or maybe I should've added something about Steve...? O.O No, I think that would've been... bad.  
Anyways, THANK YOU so much for reading this! It means a lot! As I said, this is my first Hetalia fanfiction, and I know that there are probably mistakes so I do apologise for that... But I guess this is my fanfic right? ;) Although pointers on mistakes are appreciated!  
Oh, also I added my own little Head Canon in here, that when Nations sleep or daydream deeply that they can see anything bad that's going on in their country, or possibly even something good like festivals, etc, so that's how I imagine Alfred can see what's happening; he saw glimpses while he was unconscious.

~Readers get a cookie and reviewers get Rainbow Cake~!

Thanks again for reading~ :)


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